The wind is beating

“… The wind is beating against the headlands
with its lonely song,
the moor yellow with flowers,
the small elegant lochs
like blue rings, there they used to walk
when they were children.
The loom of the wind on the headlands
with its eternal whine.”

– Excerpt from ‘Lewis’, a poem by Iain Mac a’ Ghobhainn (Iain Crichton Smith)

Moor photograph | Lewis Mackenzie